


actual meme yuuri katsuki

by sizhu



Series: take all my loves, my love, take them all [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Memes, Sick Katsuki Yuuri, Sickfic, Supportive Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 04:33:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13333578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sizhu/pseuds/sizhu
Summary: Yuuri has a minor head cold. He's fine, really. His head just feels like it's stuffed with cotton and blowing his nose is a pain, but he's fine.He just wants to sit on the couch with Viktor and watch mind numbing movies. That's certainly not too much to ask.





	actual meme yuuri katsuki

**Author's Note:**

  * For [topcatnikki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/topcatnikki/gifts).



> [nikki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/topcatnikki/pseuds/topcatnikki) is a dirty enabler and i love her so much
> 
> i did it u guys  
> i did it. have some shitty memes because i love y'all and i needed to write something

An explosive sneeze upended the tray precariously balanced across Yuuri’s lap. Thankfully, the dishes were both empty and advertised as unbreakable (an important quality, given Makkachin’s size and exuberance). Yuuri groaned. He made a blind grab for a box of tissues nearby, but found Viktor’s hand instead.

“Vitya.” Yuuri grumbled, rubbing his eye with one hand.

“You sound awful, _solnyshko_ ,” Viktor said. He smiled, lacing their fingers together. With his free hand, he felt Yuuri’s cheeks and forehead. “And hot.”

Viktor winked, and Yuuri broke into a fit of wheezing laughter that sounded more like coughing. “Ugh. Don’t say shit like that when I’m sick.”

“Sorry, darling.” Viktor’s smile softened. “You do sound absolutely dreadful, though.”

“I probably look like shit, too,” Yuuri muttered.

“Hmm…” Viktor tapped his chin thoughtfully. “You look beautiful to me.”

“Vitya…”

“A beautiful disaster,” Viktor said, allowing Yuuri a little misery. He combed his fingers through Yuuri’s messy hair. “What do you need, sweetheart?”

“Besides the tray taken away?”

“Besides that, yes.”

“Tissues, all of them.” Yuuri closed his eyes as he sat up. He tried sniffing, but it didn’t help. “Is it time for another dose of medicine?”

“Not quite,” Viktor said. “It’s only been an hour.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm.” Viktor pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s head. “You’ve been drifting in and out of sleep all day, though. I’ll be back with tissues. Tea?”

“Please.” Yuuri nodded.

Viktor smiled again. With another chaste kiss to Yuuri’s head, Viktor got up and left the room with the tray and its empty dishes. Yuuri grumbled and pushed himself out of bed. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Everything was hazy around the edges. Heaving a congested sigh, Yuuri left the bedroom and ventured into the living room of their shared flat. The bed was warm, but the TV was in the other room, so. He had to migrate. Yuuri crawled onto the couch and surrounded himself with the pillows and blanket left out. Makkachin, evidently, took this as an invitation to cuddle, so that’s what she did. She hopped onto the couch and walked back and forth across it, and Yuuri, trying to find the best place to sit. The ensuing chaos had Yuuri laughing again. It was that worryingly wheezy sound again. Yuuri started coughing, and Makkachin stopped in her tracks. She plopped herself down and dropped her head in Yuuri’s lap, looking up at him with the saddest eyes she had in her arsenal.

“Oh, Makka, I’m okay,” Yuuri said, ruffling her ears affectionately. “I just have a little head cold, that’s all. I’m okay. But you probably have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

Makkachin woofed.

“I thought so,” Yuuri said, nodding.

“And just what are you doing out of bed, mister?” Viktor asked, smiling at the two best things in his life while carrying steaming tea and a fresh box of tissues stuffed in the poodle tissue holder. “You’re supposed to be _resting_.”

“TV’s in here,” Yuuri said. He picked up the remote and waved it at Viktor. Viktor rolled his eyes and walked the rest of the way to the couch, settling down with Yuuri—Makkachin protesting, but moving to make room anyway.

“Does that mean we need to move the TV to the bedroom?” Viktor arched an eyebrow.

“Don’t even think about it.” Yuuri smiled a bit. He took the turned on the TV and set up Netflix.

“Good, because that’d be too distracting.” Viktor kissed his cheek. “What are we watching?”

“Something mindless and soul-sucking.”

“Sounds good.”

Yuuri leaned into the affection. He set the remote down once the show was running and took the tissues from Viktor. He blew his nose, suffering all the while. It was a sad honk. Viktor laughed at him, much to Yuuri’s chagrin. Yuuri nudged at Viktor with his foot, pouting while he continued to blow his nose through Viktor’s laughter.

“You’re such an ass, Vitya.” Yuuri huffed, tossing his used tissue at him. Viktor caught it and dropped it in the nearby trash bin - moved into the living room simply for Yuuri’s sake and his ever growing pile of tissues.

“I’m sorry, love,” Viktor said between snickers. “You’re just never like this. You’re the only person on the planet that can make blowing your nose _adorable_.”

“How is the sad honking of miserable congestion in any way cute?” Yuuri tossed another tissue in the trash before going for his tea. The steam helped clear his sinuses enough so he could breathe, and he sighed in sweet, blessed relief. On the TV, Michael Bay blew something up. Again. Shia Labeouf hadn’t become a meme yet (nor an actual cannibal). Makkachin barked at the on-screen chihuahua.

“You tell ‘im, Makka,” Viktor said, nodding approvingly even though the movie-dog had no idea Makkachin existed.

“Hey, Vitya?” Yuuri hummed, curled up against Viktor’s side, eyes never leaving the TV.

“What, sweetheart?”

“I want shitty delivery.”

“But you’re sick.” Viktor made a strange, concerned noise in the back of his throat.

“It’s just a _head_ cold.” Yuuri whined. “Congestion and a cough.”

“Okay, okay.” Viktor caved. “What’re you craving?”

“Hmm…” Yuuri contemplated his choices with the seriousness of someone who wasn’t suffering a head cold while watching giant robots and explosions fly across the screen. “Burritos.”

“As you wish.” Viktor hummed. “I’ll run out and get food now. Makka, make sure Yuuri rests!”

Makka barked.

 

 

Viktor returned with Yuuri’s requested takeout. Yuuri was still on the couch, looking like he hadn’t moved an inch since Viktor left. He probably hadn’t. The movie was different, though. Viktor furrowed his brows a bit. “Yuuri, darling, are you watching _all_ of them?”

“Yes.” Yuuri tore his gaze away from the TV to look up at Viktor and his acquisition. “Food?”

“Food.” Viktor confirmed. He settled back onto the couch, pushing Makkachin out of the way - lovingly, of course. Makkachin whined. “No, Makka. You can’t have what we’re eating. You’ll just get sick.”

Makkachin barked.

“Sorry, Makka,” Yuuri said, petting her. “My food.”

The dog huffed at Yuuri. She licked his hand before padding away and giving Viktor the veritable cold shoulder. Yuuri smiled at Viktor’s pout.

“Why is it that when I tell her no, I get ignored, and when you do it, she just accepts it?”

“I dunno.” Yuuri shrugged. “Now gimme my burrito.”

Viktor relinquished the bag to Yuuri’s mercy, laughing. Yuuri dug in and pulled out his box, holding it up like treasure. “ _Yes_. Shitty burrito bowl.”

“You worry me sometimes, darling.” Viktor arched an eyebrow. He blinked when Yuuri fished out his phone. “…What are you doing?”

“Pictures,” Yuuri said, as if it were obvious.

“Okay, but why?”

“Phichit.” And that explained everything. Viktor just rolled his eyes and smiled, watching Yuuri dig into his food while tapping away on his phone. Then, Yuuri stopped. He angled his phone and took a picture of his half-eaten bowl, and in the center was a leaf. Viktor arched both of his eyebrows.

“Yuuri?”

“Shh.”

 

Viktor’s phone pinged with a twitter notification. He frowned and pulled it out, checking it. Yuuri had posted a picture of the burrito bowl and the leaf in it, with a scathing comment about _leaves from the outside_ in _food_ and shitty service. Then, while Viktor was distracted, Yuuri snapped another picture. Then uploaded that.

It was a selfie—Yuuri was obviously sick in it, nose raw from tissues and everything. It also included the leaf. The caption of the image said:

‘ _No, wait. It’s just a bay leaf._ ’

 

Soon after that, Phichit retweeted with a string of laughing-crying emojis.

 

“Are you done with your memes, sweetheart?” Viktor asked.

“Mmn, for now, yeah,” Yuuri said, nodding. “Thanks for the food. And putting up with me.”

“I do not ‘put up’ with you.” Viktor huffed. “You are an absolute _delight_ and I love every bit of you. Now, what are we watching again?”

“Giant robots and explosions, volume four.”

Viktor sighed and smiled, pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s temple. The TV continued rolling explosions and robots. Viktor thought he saw a dinosaur, but couldn’t be sure.

“Dinobots,” Yuuri said, nodding and snuggling into Viktor while he continued his meal.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry yuuri you had to suffer my own head cold. 
> 
> IT'S BEEN A WEEK. I CAN FINALLY BREATHE. BUT BLOWING MY NOSE SOUNDS LIKE HONKING. AND MY HEAD STILL FEELS LIKE COTTON'S STUFFED IN IT.


End file.
